I Like You (Drarry Fluff)
by SukiKiraiElric
Summary: A fluffy fic where Draco is caught writing notes about Harry Potter, by Harry Potter. Fluffiness ensues. The characters and world in this story do not belong to me. Any content resembling the Harry Potter Books/Movies belongs to J.K. Rowling. This is purely fan fiction...and yeah.


_I absolutely, completely hate Harry Potter. There is no way in hell that I have any feelings for him whatsoever. With those bloody emerald green eyes and plump lips...and his cursed, beautiful smile. No way._ Draco blinked at the margin of his notes, then cursed himself in his head. What was he doing? He glanced up at Binns, who was too engrossed in his own lecture to notice Draco tearing up his notes. It's all because of the cursed class, Draco reassured himself as he stuffed the notes into his cloak as he glanced at Crabbe and Goyle. He'd deal with them later. To his relief, the bells signalling the end of class rung shortly after he'd snapped out of his (angsty) daze. As he (gracefully, of course; he was a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake) clambered out of his seat and into the hall, he bumped into the one person he did not want to speak to or breathe the same air as: Potter. Snarling, he prepared one of his long lists of snarky comments, ready to toss them out as quickly as possible-until he noticed the scraps on the ground. What where...Merlin. The perfect scrawl on creamy stationary...that could only belong to one Draco Malfoy. Bloody Potter stooped down to pick them up, as if completely ignoring Draco. As his Half-Blood fingers sorted through the scraps and his his green eyes-damn those eyes-flicked through each word, Draco felt his temperature rising.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Draco growled, snatching the scraps out of Harry's hands. He scanned Harry's expression. he was going to blackmail him, and soil his reputation, possibly even-

"-Draco...I had no idea that you hated me this much…"Harry murmured, hands falling limply to his sides. Draco was flabbergasted.

"W-Well of course, you filthy Half-Blood." Draco replied, relieved yet...somewhat disappointed. He shouldered past Harry and made his way down to his next class. Yet, even though Draco wasn't horrid at Charms, he found himself unable to focus on Flitwick as thoughts of Harry flicked through his mind. How dare that idiot get so upset at his words. He was a filthy Half-Blood, he deserved it...and yet, Draco felt a mysterious, unpleasant feeling fill the pit of his stomach. As the bell rung once again, Draco decided he would confront Harry...to, explain himself. With nothing planned, he rushed into the hall to catch Potter, leaving behind a rather startled Crabbe, and an equally startled Goyle.

"Potter!" Draco shouted, immediately noticing his pitch black hair, along with the filthy Weasley's red mop and the Mudblood's frizzy mess in the crowd of first years. The trio turned around in unison (much to Draco's disgust).

"I need to talk to you," Draco glared at the Weasley, "in private."

"Well, Harry doesn't want to," the Mudblood sneered, eyes flashing with hatred.

"Yeah," the Weasley added, ever so eloquently.

"Guys...I'll talk to Draco. You two should head to Potions...Snape isn't someone you should keep waiting," Harry ushered, glancing at Draco. The two glanced at Harry, then Draco, and finally hurried off to Potions wordlessly.

"What do you want, Draco?" Harry growled, though the hurt was obvious in his tone.

"I...wanted to explain my notes earlier."

"What is it? Do you want to tell me off again about how much you hate me?" Harry accused, hugging his books protectively.

"No, Potter. Listen...I...don't hate you. I...it's all because of your eyes, alright? Those bloody green eyes! And your hair...bloody hell, your hair! Can't you apply some potion or charm that will flatten that mop of yours? I can't bloody focus in History of Magic all because of your hair! And, don't get me started on those lips! I couldn't even focus in Flitwick's class because of those things!" Before Draco could even listen to what he was saying, everything spilled out. Merlin. Things were really over now, weren't they. They really-Harry's lips crashed against Draco's, and the Slytherin attempted to keep his balance as incredulous first-years rushed past while staring at the couple. Of course, he didn't know there were people still in the hall. All he could focus on were Harry's warm, pink lips against his own...until they were both gasping for air. Harry smirked up at Draco, pink tinting his cheeks.

"What you meant," Harry laughed, "was 'I like you.'"


End file.
